Afterthoughts
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: Set after Brendan lashes out at Ste, but without the added trouble of discovering Walker is back. Another interpretation of how the post-beating confrontation might have gone. Oneshot.


**Started writing this yesterday after** **watching the episode with the horrific beating. This is what I'd pictured happening had there not been the more urgent matter of psycho Walker lurking about, so in this version of the aftermath, Brendan did not bump into Maxine. **

**Having now seen tonight's first look, I think we'd all agree the scenes between Ste and Brendan were written and acted perfectly as they were. (Emmett & Kieron are incredible!) This is just my interpretation of a conversation I think they'd need to have. Please let me know your thoughts if you read it! :)**

Afterthoughts

It only took a few minutes for him to start sobering up once he realised what he'd just done to the love of his life.

"Steven!"

"Don't come anywhere near me!"

"Please, I'm so-"

The young man spun around quickly. "Don't say it. Don't you _dare_ say you're sorry."

And with that, Brendan could only watch on in horror as Ste staggered off alone, in the direction of the flat.

What the hell had he _done_?

"_Hiya, this is Amy Barnes, I'm obviously too busy to answer me phone right now, but leave a message and I'll get straight back to ya!"_

_BEEP!_

"Ames, it's me. Look I know you don't wanna know at the moment, but I just had to...I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you, you and the kids. You're still me best mate, you know?"

Ste didn't know what else to say without revealing the sickening truth to the mother of his kids, so instead he ended the message and hung up, his phone dropping to the floor unnoticed. He wasn't quite ready to admit to himself, or to Amy, that she'd been right all along.

He sat there for a good few minutes, on the floor of the flat, trying to process what the hell had just happened between himself and Brendan.

Then, deciding that this train of thought could only lead to another round of hysterical sobs, he forced himself to stand and get a glass of water. No, vodka would be better, he thought.

The liquid stung the back of his throat as it went down, and he rubbed his eyes without any thought for his swollen face.

He couldn't help but cry out in pain at the contact.

Walking into the bathroom, Ste braced himself for the sight in the mirror. He hadn't bothered to clean his face up yet. And seeing it now, all bloodied and battered...he could hardly believe it was the handiwork of the same man who'd promised him the best future possible. The same man who had helped to look after Leah and Lucas, and even baked bloody _bread_ with him not two weeks ago.

In hindsight, it seemed naïve of him not to expect this somewhere down the line in their relationship. But he honestly hadn't. Even with the things he'd said to Brendan tonight, he'd never thought _this_ would happen again.

Ste was brought out of his trance in the mirror by the sound of his phone ringing. He picked it up from it's spot the floor, only half-hoping it might be Amy.

It was Cheryl.

"_Ste? Are ye alright, love? Is Brendan...is he okay?"_

He was so desperate for comfort right now that he was almost tempted to tell her. But she didn't deserve to have her big night ruined just because her brother couldn't control himself. So he put on the chirpiest voice he could manage.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine Cheryl. Don't worry about us, you enjoy your party, okay?"

"_Not much chance of that now, me and Nate have just had words, so..."_

"What? Why, what happened?"

_Keep talking_, Ste begged silently. Anything to block out what's going on in my head right now, he pleaded.

"_It was just...something Nate said about Brendan." _

He resisted the urge to tell her not to let Brendan come between them because he wasn't worth it. A statement like that was sure to get her even more worried.

"Oh Cheryl...go and find him. He loves you, don't let anything get in the way. You deserve to be happy."

There was a pause, and he wondered what could have been so bad that she was now having doubts about the man of her dreams.

"Cheryl?"

"_Sorry, Ste, I'm still here. Listen love, is Bren still awake? Can I come over?"_

There was a loud knocking on the locked door, and Ste hurried to get Cheryl off the phone. "Er, he's...not very well at the moment, too much to drink, you know so probably best to leave it. Will you be okay? I'd better go."

"_Oh...okay, no I'll be fine, ye go. I'll...go and find Nate then I think. I'll see ye both tomorrow."_

Ste threw the phone on the sofa and walked towards the door. The knocking hadn't stopped, it had just grown quieter.

So he'd obviously calmed down then. Like it mattered _now_.

"Steven..."

Brendan's voice was soft and broken, and Ste stood with his back against the door, arms folded as he listened and debated what to do.

"Steven please. I'm so sorry...I...please just let me explain..."

White hot fury shot through Ste then, and any fear he'd had left him as he opened the door and confronted the man leaning heavily against the doorframe.

"You want _me_ to let _you_ explain why you did _this_?!" he gestured to his blood covered face.

He saw the way Brendan's eyes widened in pure horror at the sight of him, but it did nothing to soothe his state of mind.

"Steven I..."

The sentence hung in the air unfinished, his voice wavering as his eyes stayed fixed on the younger man's face.

"What's the matter Brendan, can't finish what you started, eh?" Ste taunted angrily.

"Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"Why not? We both know I've had worse, don't we?"

Ste turned away, allowing Brendan to come inside and shut the door. He wasn't quite sure why – maybe he just craved an answer to his last remark. It was like he was spoiling for a fight himself now.

"No excuses, I promise," said the older man from the far end of the room. Ste stood in the kitchen, his body slumped against the counter as the rage slowly ebbed out of him. "I _do_ love ye, Steven. I never wanted to hurt ye."

"Don't."

"What?" Brendan asked fearfully.

Ste looked away. "Don't tell me you love me. It just makes it worse."

"Why?"

"When you used to hit me before," he began, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice. "I could convince myself I deserved it. Now you hit me and tell me you love me, like that makes _all_ the difference – but you're not supposed to hurt someone you really love, are you?"

Brendan said nothing, just looked on like a lost little boy.

"I used to come back here, face black and blue or ribs cracked after seeing you, and Amy would be waiting for me. 'There is never a reason to hit anyone,' she'd say. And I knew she was right but I just couldn't stop going back to you. Right now, more than anything, I really wish I _didn't_ love you, Brendan."

A choked sob sounded from across the room, and Ste looked up to find that Brendan had dropped to the ground and was rocking back on his heels.

The old Ste Hay would have shut up by now; would have thought that his last statement was more than enough. It probably was, in fairness. But he didn't care anymore. And he had more to say, so he sat on the floor, his back against the kitchen cupboards.

"Do you want to know about the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me? I was seventeen and I thought I'd escaped me mam and stepdad for good. I was living in this dingy little flat with Amy and Leah, far worse than this place it was. And then Terry turned up, out of the blue. Amy's dad brought him round."

"Why?"

He hadn't expected Brendan's to speak, and it brought him out of his once buried memories for a moment to meet the man's eyes.

"Because he hated me for taking away his daughter. But I don't think even he expected what happened next."

There was a long pause while Ste closed his eyes and remembered what it had felt like that day. Fear; pain, mortification. More pain.

"Terry waded in and just started laying in to me, punch after punch, kick after kick until I ended up cowering in a ball in the corner. I had Amy, her sister and our baby girl, who couldn't have been more than about eight months old, watching me get beaten to within an inch of me life while Mike tried to pull him off me."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Brendan's direction, and Ste hoped he wasn't about to hear that word 'sorry' again. Sorry never made anything better.

"Until tonight, that was the most humiliating thing I've ever had to go through. But then you did this," he pointed to his face again, tears welling in his eyes. "And coming from the man I gave up me kids for, lost me best friend and a whole other life for...coming from you, the first man ever to love me? That's what makes _this_ ten times worse."

"I know."

The voice was closer this time, and Ste opened his eyes to find Brendan kneeling outside the kitchen door – close enough to see the expression on his face, but far enough away so as not to be intimidating. He hadn't even heard the movement, he'd been so caught up in voicing his thoughts.

A sudden thought hit him, and he was struck by another powerful memory from long ago.

"I used to hit out at Amy if she even _mentioned_ my mam, right, so maybe I get why you felt..."

"No, Steven," Brendan interrupted. "No. There is no excuse. Doesn't matter what ye say to me, ye _never_ deserved that."

Ste nodded. "I was right though, wasn't I? About you and your dad."

The look that passed over Brendan's face was nothing less than haunting. It was a far cry from his reaction to the same statement earlier that evening.

"I can't be like him, Steven. I'm _not_ the same as him..."

"I think it's too late for that, Brendan."

There was a strangled cry, and Ste resisted his longing to go and hold him, like he had during his last breakdown. It still amazed him how he could go from hating this man to wanting to soothe him within a matter of minutes.

"There's something ye don't know about me. It's...it's about my Da'."

"I don't...what d'you mean?"

"There was more than just the beatings when I was a kid. There was...there was more."

Saying this wouldn't change what he'd done. It wouldn't make it excusable. But if it would make them understand each other just that bit more, it would be worth it.

And so Brendan Brady unravelled in front of Steven Hay like he'd never done before.


End file.
